Caught
by XiuRong
Summary: This story follows, rewrites, and takes place after Gunji's Route in Nitro CHiRAL's Togainu No Chi game. Akira is caught by Gunji after being dragged into a chase from the Executioners by a tag thief. **The chapters have been extended (by a lot) and edited, so if you need to, go back and read them.
1. Chapter 1

Takeru's grip was firmly locked onto Akira's arm, and there was nothing Akira could do but follow along in a stumbling run.

Out of all the times to call him out.

Takeru was a clear violator of Igura's rules, a tag thief. It was only expected that the consequences, the Executioners, Kiriwar and Gunji, would eventually catch up to him.

Takeru was on the run, right then and there, from the insane duo, and by sheer luck, Takeru and Akira had come face to face.

"You!" He called out to Akira. "Come with me!"

Now, it wasn't just Takeru running from the Executioners. Akira was dragged into it.

Either way, it would be bad to get caught.

Akira yanked his arm out of Takeru's grip.

"Hey!"

Before Takeru could grab hold of him again, Akira sprinted down another alley. All he could think of was losing the Executioners.

He turned left. The alley continued straight ahead to meet a side street further down.

As breathing became painful and judging that the distance was enough, he slowed his pace and pressed his hand to the wall, but his relief was short-lived.

"Foooouuund ya..."

A distinctive and recognizable voice sounded over Akira's head, and someone dropped down to block the way. The body that landed in a crouch in front of him slowly rose, unfolding itself.

Rough blonde hair covering his eyes, that pink, open hoodie... One of the Executioners, Gunji, stood before him. Akira looked up to see the second-floor window of a vacant building missing its glass.

"Sooo gullible. Thought you could run away?" Gunji's mouth widened into a grin.

As Akira attempted a quick retreat, Gunji grabbed his arm.

"Let-!"

"Shut the fuck up."

A sharp wind whipped past him. Gunji held his claws to Akira's throat.

Akira immediately cut off his own protest.

"I'll kill ya if you scamper around too much, ya know."

He hurled the slighter man against the wall. As Akira's back rebounded against the concrete, his breathing came to a halt. A shadow fell over Akira as he curled up in agony. At the edge of his unstable vision, he saw Gunji hunkering down .

The tips of his claws lifted Akira's chin, and the Executioner's eyes flicked over him, "Ah... nice eyes... Not like the addicts takin' that Line shit."

"Makes me wanna see ya squirm around in pain."

Gunji's normally hidden eyes were visible through the gaps in his bangs. The Executioner's stare pierced him, but Akira didn't look away.

Then, Gunji roughly grabbed the front of Akira's bangs and forced his forehead up. He wore a brutal smile as he watched Akira gritting his teeth.

"Try singin' a little."

The tips of the claws strapped to his other hand glided down from Akira's chin to his throat, and then his collarbone. Leisurely, dextrously, without cutting a single scrap of skin. When they caught on the rim of Akira's shirt, he ripped right through it in one swift motion.

He laid the blades against Akira's bare skin and slowly began to lower them.

A red streak sprang forth, followed, after a short delay, by drops of blood swelling out at an irregular pace. Akira flinched at the stinging pain...

...but he was far more panicked by Gunji's unpredictability.

A second streak was drawn next to the first.

A third...

An irresistable impulse began to rise within Akira. Every fiber in his body screamed at him to run.

As if Gunji could sense his thoughts, he laughed under his breath and then shoved a knee between Akira's legs, effectively keeping him in place.

The blades retraced the three cuts.

One at a time. Meticulously.

Driven further and further into a corner by this gradual torment, Akira fought to shove Gunji's body away from him, regardless of the danger involved.

In response, he laughed under his breath, "Hey... Sing for me... Yell... Cry. Scream!"

Gunji delightedly broadened his grin.

Akira held his breath when a pain ran through his chest.

The tips of Gunji's claws had sunken into his skin, to control his writhing.

"'Cause I ain't got enough adrenaline... and I mean it."

His tone shifted, going from crazed to heated.

He yanked down Akira's jeans.

Akira tried to shift away, but he had no room to move. One of Gunji's claws nicked his back and tore through the jacket as Gunji shifted to pin Akira against the wall.

He went dizzy at the pain that shot through him.

Iron. His mind was being blotted out by red.

Gunji's laughter sounded in his ears. "... Ahahaha! So red... so warm... This is what ya call proof that you're alive! Ain't nothin' more of a treat than blood and screams!"

Akira's expression twisted as Gunji's tongue grazed his bloodied skin. Gunji's body temperature seeped into his freshly torn wounds.

He stayed as silent as he could and pressed his lips together in agony, hoping the Executioner would tire of him.

Even now, even with his body slowly going numb, Akira resisted. His very thoughts were becoming torpid, and he was losing strength as blood continued to flow out of him.

As he fought to maintain consciousness, suddenly, Gunji hoisted up his legs.

Although he was in a daze, Akira could feel the weight of his back and hips shift onto the concrete wall behind him.

"Sing real pretty for me, will ya? ... 'cause I'm gonna get bored." His maddened eyes looked straight into Akira's, and his smile filled Akira's misty field of sight.

Akira felt something pressing into the depths of his body. Before he could realize what it was, Gunji hauled up his knees.

Akira couldn't hold back an agonized scream.

A ripping pain tore him apart. Enough pain to make him forget the injuries on his chest. His throat convulsed, stifling his pained voice.

"... You gotta ease up a bit... or you're gonna tear me to shreds..." Breathing unevenly, Gunji laughed.

As Gunji moved in him against his will, his thoughts became so clouded, he no longer could tell what was happening to him.

"Does it hurt? Don't you want it to hurt? Nothin' fun about only feelin' good..." Gunji whispered in his ear as he continued the assault.

Even through Akira's gritted teeth, stifled cries slipped out.

The air had grown thick with the smell of iron. Gunji's cheeks, too, were splattered with red.

"Haa... Love that voice... Cry some more... more..." He muttered feverishly.

Red.

It hurts.

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts!

Akira's vision was going. He'd lost too much blood. From the way Gunji was forcing himself on him, he was probably bleeding down there, too.

Please let it be over. Quickly.

Akira lost track of time as he tried to escape the pain.

His consciousness was drifting, and his own voice had lowered down to pained gasps. Gunji was quiet, too. Even at the verge of unconsciousness, he thought it was strange not hearing the voice of the usually garrulous Executioner. All he could hear now was rough breathing coming from the both of them. One in pain and the other...

Against his hair, he felt a stifled breath. His legs were painfully pressed further apart, and he could feel blades biting against his thighs.

Finally, Gunji had stopped.

Akira's energy gone and his sight dark, he could just barely register Gunji's next words.

Nuzzling his face against Akira's hair, he murmured to himself in a low voice, "So pretty... Would be a waste..."


	2. Chapter 2

"I just picked up a stray~"

Gunji's entry was hardly subtle - Was it ever? - as the door to Arbitro's mansion swung open.

Kiriwar turned to greet his partner. They had lost each other in the chase for the tag thief with the blue-dyed hair and the other guy he had dragged along with him.

"Yo, Gun-"

He cut himself off. It wasn't Gunji's appearance that surprised him. No. Gunji looked like that half the day, every day. It was the body in his arms. He recognized it immediately, even without the fur-lined jacket the guy usually wore, and approached the two.

"Damn... you really messed him up..."

Kiriwar observed the slashes decorating the man's body.

He whistled, and his eyes flicked over the senseless man's face, "And wasn't this the guy Arbitro had his eyes on? ... He ain't gonna be happy."

"I'm gonna keep him." Gunji stated, his usual grin on his face.

"Huh?" Kiriwar expression was skeptical. Keep him?

"Yeah."

Gunji's laugh lowered as he looked down at the slighter man in his arms, "Ahaha... so cute~"

"Well~" He turned to the long corridor and threw a less-than-sane grin over his shoulder, "I'll be in my room with the kitty~"

Long after the sounds of Gunji's steps faded, Kiriwar still stood there, somewhat amazed. His partner was one hell of an unpredictable guy. Well. It's not as if he couldn't understand why he would want to keep his catch.

Kiriwar walked over to the couch at the center of the room and kicked his legs up onto the table.

He waited for Arbitro's arrival.

"Kitty~ kitty~" Gunji sang to himself.

Slowly, almost gently, for Gunji, he laid the insensate Akira down on the bed. He frowned at the temperature of Akira's skin.

"Cold." Gunji's expression turned into that of a puzzled child.

"Are you cold, Kitty?" He strided purposefully to the other side of the room, where he had thrown a thick white blanket.

"Here." Gunji kneeled down and lifted Akira's slack body a bit to wrap the blanket loosely around him.  
He was light.

Almost immediately, red patches began to bloom all over the blanket. Blood had seeped even through the clothes Gunji had so thoughtfully put back on him.

Even in Gunji's dense thought processes, he was able to realize that the bleeding wasn't stopping. Gunji's slight movements had reopened the wounds on the other man's body.

He didn't want to keep some corpse. He wanted his new kitty alive.

"Hey," After unstrapping the blades usually strapped to his hand, Gunji lightly jabbed at Akira's jaw.  
It turned his head to the side, exposing opening slashes beneath his collarbone. No reaction.

Gunji stood up abruptly.

For the first time, there was a conflict in his mind. He'd never worried about preserving or taking care of anything, not even himself - not that he needed to - and that feeling didn't sit too well with him.

For the second time, Kiriwar turned his attention to the opening entrance to Arbitro's mansion.

There he was. The man himself.

Arbitro, followed by a couple suited, masked men, waved them away when he saw Kiriwar.

"Ah. There you are." He stuffed a hankerchief into his back pocket. "It's about time for you two to take Kau on a walk..."

Arbitro paused.

"Where is Gunji?" Arbitro asked the personally-hired bodyguard sitting before him. The other one was missing.

"He's in his room," Kiriwar stated matter-of-factly, "... probably cuddling with the cat he brought back with him."

"C-Cat?"

Arbitro hated the things.

"Yeah." Kiriwar's nonchalant gaze fixed back onto his employer. "Cat."

Now, Arbitro was stomping through the hall, flanked by Kiriwar, who was vaguely interested in the outcome of the situation.

"A cat!"

Arbitro muttered irritatedly to himself. "After all this time, he finally brings one back with him."  
"Even though I told him never to-!"

Arbitro lost his footing on a slippery area of the floor. Now even more provoked he glared angrily at the tiles.

Blood?

There was blood marking the spot.

And there was a long trail of it from behind him.

What had Gunji done now?

He strided quickly to the door and was about to turn the knob before realizing that even it was bloodied.

Arbitro recoiled in disgust.

"How distasteful."

Only a glance from Arbitro was needed to prompt Kiriwar into opening the door for him.

"Why don't you use that clean-ass hankerchief of yours?" Kiriwar grunted as he kicked the solid wood.

The door opened easily, and a shocking sight greeted them.

There was blood almost everywhere, and it only added to mess that was already there.

Blades made a sharp clinking sound as Arbitro's shoe hit the claws that were usually strapped to Gunji's hands.

He was about to step back, but then he saw the familiar figure of Gunji near the center of the room, on the bed, his arms firmly wrapped around something.

The cat.

Before Arbitro could let loose, he recognized what- no, who - Gunji's arms were wrapped around. Even though from his position, he could only see the young man's back, that distinct silver hair gave him away.

There were greivous wounds on his back. One large slash marked the area, painfully scraped raw.  
His entire body was covered in angry red slashes.

That idiotic-! How dare he-? To this beautiful young man...

"Gunji!" Arbitro practically shrieked. "What did you do?!"

"Told ya he wasn't gonna be happy..." Kiriwar remarked, having followed closely after Arbitro.

Arbitro flipped on the second light switch, sending more light scattering across the room.

When Gunji turned to face them as if in reaction to the suddenly brighter lighting, Kiriwar went silent. Something was different in his expression.

The delighted light in his eyes and sadistically happy expression that usually accompanied his blood-covered figure wasn't there.

Something was definitely off.

As quickly as that expression had shocked Kiriwar, it faded, replaced with mild irritation.

"Oy, Papa, turn that down, would ya?"

"Keh-!" Arbitro shrieked, "Why... you! Do you know how valuable this young man is?! And you-!"

Arbitro was at a loss for words.

He exhaled in frustration, "At any rate, we need to fix this. We need to treat him immediately. We need some kind of medic... Kiri-"

"Fix him?"

Curiously, Gunji interrupted.

Arbitro snapped back, "Of course! He needs treatment right now!"

He turned back to the other Executioner. "Kiriwar-"

"Yeah, yeah. I got it. I'm going." Kiriwar left the room.

And when he returned, he entered the room with a nervous, much older man rolling a large case full of medical supplies behind him.

"Just fix him up with some bandages, and it'll all be good...?" Kiriwar muttered to no one in particular.

"Y-Yes-" He responded quickly to Kiriwar, obviously intimidated by his company.

Arbitro's exasperated voice rang out, "Then treat him immediately. We can't have this young man dying on us." Before leaving the room with Kiriwar, he glared pointedly at Gunji, who was paying no attention to him.

His eyes were fixed on the medic.

The man hesitated to move closer but prompted by the other Executioner and the demanding Arbitro's money, he walked closer to the figure still in Gunji's embrace.

"Hey."

He froze.

"Let me do it." Gunji's glanced pointed at the case in his hands.

The medic hesitated.

"Just fix him up with bandages... right?" Gunji prompted, repeating Kiriwar's words.

"I can do bandages."

The medic finally spoke again, quickly, "There c-could be a risk of infection, so... I'd have to look at that, too..."

"Eh...?" Gunji's expression turned impatient, his eyes no longer on the medical suitcase but instead fixed onto the medic's increasingly nervous demeanor.

The tension in the room seemed to heighten with every passing second that the medic didn't hand over the case. Between Arbitro and the Executioner before him, he had to make a decision.

A brief moment passed before the man gulped and set the case onto the ground.

Gunji moved from the bed, causing the medic to step back.

With a bloodied arm and an almost appreciative grin, Gunji picked up the large, heavy suitcase.

"Thanks."

When Akira came to, his consciousness came back all at once.

Pain. Pain and aches everywhere. His body felt heavy and sluggish, but it was wrapped in a strange warmth. Through an awakening daze, Akira wondered to himself why he wasn't dead. Numb sensation had filled his entire body. He was aware in mind but not in body.

Where was he?

His eyes flickered open to dim light. He was in a large room. Although the range of his sight did not extend very far, he could make out piles of clothes, blankets, pillows, and... blades.

On the ground, there were blades. The very ones Gunji always had strapped to his hands.

Akira's eyes widened.

This warmth around him. He was sitting upright, being held steadily in place.

Vague sensation on his back. Where he had been cut. And...

... An arm wrapped around his waist. He recognized those tattoos.

His breathing hitched in a panic. His voice - even that was pained - couldn't make a sound.

Akira's jolted his body away, and he felt himself the bed beneath him disappear. Where was his sense of balance?

"Whoa."

Arms caught his body, firmly and steadily pulling him upright again.

"Ya awake, already?"

He recognized that voice. It was close. Too close to him. In another attempt to get away, he moved his uncertain limbs in a way that he hoped would get him farther away.

This time, he fell off the bed, landing hard on the cold floor. The numbness in his body snapped away, and pain shot through every nerve in his body.

"Keh-" Akira let out a cry of pain.

In a burst of adrenaline and with no time to waste, he placed his legs beneath his body and threw a hand out to find an anchor for himself. Only a moment after his hand met the wall, his legs collapsed.

Damn it!

Arms caught him again.

"Haha... so cute..."

Akira shut his eyes in frustration and fear. In this state, there was no possible way for him to escape.

He felt himself get lifted up, and he expected to be thrown back onto bed but... Gunji was careful to place him comfortably, sitting him upright again... then settling into a space right behind him.

Akira didn't want to be anywhere near this man, but he was held firmly in place. He flinched at the Executioner's touch, which led to a laugh from behind him.

"Hey... Are ya scared?" Gunji's voice was right next to his ear.

It was obvious, wasn't it? Akira knew that he was giving the Executioner what he loved the most, running away, shaking in terror, but at the moment, he really couldn't give a damn. All he wanted to do was run away. Especially after...

He turned his face away, his body reacting to the memory of the trauma inflicted on him by the Executioner. Every wound on his body ached to remind him.

His body trembled. In pain. In fear. And in anticipation for what the Executioner might do next.

Gunji's unpredictability frightened him. And he was at the mercy of it for as long as his body remained in this state.

"Aww..." One of Gunji's arms slid up his chest and grabbed hold of his jaw, turning his head back around to face him. "Looking like that... Makes me wanna..."

A grin crept into Gunji's expression.

"Those eyes..."

Akira hardened his eyes and stared right back into Gunji's sharp, studying gaze, even though he knew he likely looked more like a cornered animal.

"Hn." Gunji let out a short breath and released his jaw. "Stay still."

Akira's body didn't properly respond anyway. He froze when he felt Gunji's hands move to his back, expecting pain.

"Geh..." Gunji exhaled in mild irritation. "This isn't at all like how Jiijii said... What's with these bandages..."

Bandages...?

Akira looked down at his body, noticing for the first time that the severe pain from before had faded into dull aches. The slashes on his chest and arms were cleaned and wrapped somewhat adeptly by white strips of cloth. Bandages.

A stinging smell reached his nose, accompanied by a dull ache at his back. Disinfectant?

Akira could almost laugh at the absurdity of the situation. It was far removed from the image of the crazed, bloodthirsty killer he held in his mind. But he was too uncertain. Too afraid. Was this another one of the Executioner's whims?

He would likely rip his arm out just to hear him scream in the next instant.

"Done." Gunji's satisfied voice snapped him back into reality.

Gunji moved around the large bed to face Akira. With no support or strength to hold himself up, Akira fell back against the wall behind the bed. Both of them were studying the other. Gunji's eyes moved over Akira's body, looking over his own handiwork, and Akira's eyes studied Gunji's every move, wary.

Suddenly, Gunji moved off the bed, picking up rags off to the side, on the floor. They were colored a dark red. Were they drenched with blood? Akira's consciousness flickered, but his suspicion didn't go away. He didn't want to lose awareness in a place like this. With a person like that.

"Hey."

Akira had been on the verge of unconsciousness.

He merely threw what he hoped was an sharp gaze back at the blonde Executioner kneeling before him, but he couldn't hold onto awareness for much longer. As he lost himself to sleep, he could barely register the next words that came out of Gunji's mouth.

"... tired...?"

Frustratingly, Akira's consciousness drifted throughout the night. Or day. Or days. He wasn't sure. He knew that he needed to run away. He knew that, but his body was trapped in numbness and pain at the same time, paralyzing itself.

The next time Akira woke, he woke up alone.

Gunji's absence relaxed the initial tension in his body.

Tentatively, Akira moved his limbs, sitting himself upright. The sharp pains from before had faded into dull aches, and his body was now properly responding.

For some reason, his hand flew to his neck.

It was met with the touch of unfamiliar clothing. He was wearing a hooded jacket. And shorts. Both were a size up on him. He noticed, however, that there was nothing underneath, and his chest could feel the rough material and the cold zipper of the jacket.

More importantly...

His tags. They were gone.

In their stead were bandages. And beneath them, he could feel the ache of pained wounds.

He knew would not be able to return to being an unnoticed Igura participant, but technically, he had not lost yet. Something could be said about the fact that he was in the custody of an Executioner, but he had not been knocked onto his back by another Igura participant in a fight with witnesses.

He was overthinking this, and he knew that neither Arbitro, the overseer of Igura, nor the Executioners, its enforcers, would follow the technicalities of the rules.

What else could he do but give up on the small hope of returning to the CFC? To the previous normality of his life?

Had there really been a way to escape the harsh life sentence of the charges of the murder he did not commit?

And from what he had experienced here, he would never be able to return to way he had been before.

Il Re.

How would he accomplish what he was sent here to do?

How could he look his childhood friend in the face? Keisuke had dragged himself in to be here for him, and in desperation, with no other choice, Akira didn't stop him from registering in Igura in the hopes that they would go back together.

Negative feelings gathered in his chest, then dropped in despair and disappointment.

He swallowed those feelings and put them aside to focus on something else.

Something in his body was bothering him.

Now, more than anything, he could only concentrate on the hoarseness in his throat and the twisting feeling in his abdomen. His attention shifted to a set-up on the table beside the bed. Four bottles of water. And a sandwich. Beside it, laid a scrap of paper reading, "FOR THE KITTY."

The Executioner's personality came across even in the rough strokes of his handwriting.

The smell coming from the single sandwich on the table made his stomach churn, and the bottled water on table promised to ease his parched throat.

What could he have possibly put in it? Despite that thought, Akira took the sandwich and bit into it. Vaguely warm. He could taste... cheese...? And meat? ... Ham? He guessed. In his previous life in the CFC, there were no such luxuries.

It was delicious.

Akira reached for a bottle on the table and greedily downed all its contents in a matter of seconds.

For the first time since coming here, Akira felt relieved. And that wasn't just referring to being forcibly taken to Arbitro's mansion. He's been on edge since coming to Toshima. His body had been abused and neglected, having taken damage from all the exciting events that took place in the prison-like city. He'd neglected his appetite and his need for sleep.

He didn't want to admit it, but this was probably the most care his body had been given since he'd come to Toshima. Save for the injuries incurred by the Executioner.

Akira looked around the room.

Was there a bathroom nearby?

His wandering eyes caught on something that answered his question almost immediately.

As he shifted his leg, he winced. With every movement, he could feel his body complain. Slowly, he pushed himself to the edge of the bed and stood up.  
Beyond the sink in the bathroom, there was a door that could easily be slid open. Inside, there was a large tub... and a shower.

The tiled floor was pristine. The bathroom in Gunji's room was clean - surprisingly - and spacious. It was definitely befitting of Arbitro's mansion, but somehow, he could not associate the room as Gunji's.

Akira did not linger long.

When he left the bathroom, he was careful to close the door securely behind him. Akira didn't want to make it obvious he was snooping around the room.

Gunji wasn't here. If there were a time to make his escape, it would be now.

The windows on the opposite side of the room let in a little light, giving Akira a view of Toshima's overcast skies. The tall curtains had been drawn open and tied aside.

When he stood before the window, he gave up on the idea of escaping through it.

They were on the second floor. It would have been a hassle for him to get from here to ground any other time, but the current state of his body would not be able to handle a jump, or a fall, from this distance.

He tapped a knuckle against the glass. Given how much pride Arbitro seemed to have about his mansion, if he'd had any sense, he would have had the windows in the Executioners' rooms shatterproof.

How futile.

Discouraged. Akira turned his eyes away.

What about the door?

Akira's attention shifted to the opposite side of the room. He turned and padded over to the only entrance and exit to the room.

Could it possibly be unlocked? Could he break it?

He hesitated. His mind raced with what-ifs.

Were there guards? Would they try to stop him? If they did, could he run away?

Maybe.

Anything was better than staying here, waiting, unsure of Gunji's next whim.

Resolved, he reached for the doorknob... then froze as it turned.

He found himself face to face with the bloodied Executioner. When their eyes met, on Gunji's face was an expression of surprise.

Then it warped into that grin.

"Kitty!" Akira flinched back as Gunji tackled him to the floor.

"Ya up already? ...That's good~"

In this position, Gunji's arms were on either side of his shoulders, effectively caging him in. Akira's arms were up and on Gunji, keeping a short distance between their bodies, and he turned his head to the side, away from the imposing figure on top of him.

"Hey... I really like seeing ya in this, Kitty~" Gunji laughed under his breath.

His hand played with the hood trapped underneath his head. This was Gunji's hoodie. His clothes.

Akira shifted uncomfortably when Gunji's hand moved to the nape of his neck. Then his hair. Through the cold bite of metal, Akira noticed that Gunji's claws were still attached.

"Hey... Kitty..."

His hand moved again, turning Akira's head to look upwards at him. It was a silent yet forceful command.

_Look at me._

Akira looked into Gunji's sharp, maddened eyes and returned his stare.

"Don't call me that."

Gunji pressed his forehead onto Akira's.

"Hm...~"

Feeling dangerously bold, or maybe in actuality, desperate, Akira pushed at Gunji's shoulders with his arms.

"Get off of me."

When Gunji ignored his words, Akira shoved harder against his shoulders.

"Get off-"

Gunji caught both of his hands and forced them up above Akira's head, pinned down with a forearm.  
Suddenly, the dim light illuminating Gunji's face darkened some more.

Another voice.

"If you're gonna fuck him, you should at least close the door."

A clink from the tags attached to Gunji's belt sounded as he twisted his torso to look at the figure behind him.

Light filtering in through the door cut the tall figure of the other Executioner.

"It's common courtesy."

Gunji was obviously annoyed by the instrusion, but Kiriwar ignored his partner and stepped into the room as if it were his own.

Now that the light from the room's entrance was no longer in harsh contrast with Kiriwar's figure, Akira could clearly see the blood stains on his clothes and weapon, Mitsuko. The heavy metal pipe's length was nearly a third of its owner's height. Dark liquid stained it, and it wasn't hard to imagine the weapon in action.

Akira could hear and feel the satisfying thunk it made as Kiriwar rested one end of it on the floor.

"Oy, Jiijii," Gunji spoke up. "You're messing up the floor."

He was referring to the blood dripping down from the end of the weapon.

"Like you're one to talk." Kiriwar pointed the metal pipe at the two. "You're messing him up right now."

From the way Kiriwar spoke, it was obvious he wasn't only referring to bloodstains transferring from Gunji's clothes onto Akira.

Kiriwar whistled, "What a sight..."

He moved closer and kneeled to get a better look at the silently glaring Akira's face.

Without looking away, he asked simply, "Wanna share?"

Akira shifted uneasily beneath Gunji.

Gunji snorted. "No. Way. Jiijii."

"Hah...?"

Kiriwar seemed surprised to be shot down by Gunji.

Gunji leaned even closer to Akira, "This one's mine... Get your own kitty if ya want one so bad..."

Akira bristled at Gunji's words and cut Gunji off at the end of his sentence with a knee to the abdomen.

Gunji hadn't let go, but the action took both of the Executioners by surprise. Their attention immediately snapped to Akira.

"Kitty..." Akira hissed, "Don't fucking call me that!"

Kiriwar's eyes followed Akira, interest glinting in his sharp eyes, and continued pressing the issue with Gunji, "But I like this one..."

His tongue ran over the prominent canines in his mouth as it widened into a grin.  
"He's interesting."


	3. Chapter 3

"Absolutely not!" Arbitro's voice filled the large hall.

He had broken up the scene in Gunji's room, demanding both of the Executioners' presences to speak in private.

"Eh...?" Gunji was still stubbornly pleading his case.

"Really, just look at the state of him..." Arbitro let out an exasperated exhale. "And you expect me to leave him with you?"

"Come on, Papa..." Gunji protested, "I'll take care of him..."

"Those words hardly put my concerns to rest." Arbitro said in response, without missing a beat.

As the two argued over the fate of the former Igura participant still locked in Gunji's room, Kiriwar stood beside them, impatiently swinging around Mitsuko.

"Two weeks have been enough!"

"Doesn't count." Gunji refuted immaturely. "He was sleepin' the entire time."

Kiriwar sighed. What did Arbitro need him here for? He and Gunji seemed to be getting along just fine. His thoughts wandered. To the subject of dinner. Then about the hell of a time doing the laundry was going to be. Blood still dripped from the end of the metal pipe in his hand.

When he tuned back into the conversation between Arbitro and his partner, it seemed as if Arbitro given in a bit to Gunji's demands.

"I don't want to see him in that grievous state he was in-"

"Don't worry. Don't worry." Gunji' asserted. His usual grin had crept back into his expression, "I won't cut him up anymore."

"At all." Arbitro emphasized his terms. "I don't want to see those claws of yours anywhere near him. Or any injury."

"Roger, roger~"

Kiriwar turned his attention to the hired suited and masked man that stood to side, waiting to speak. He heard another set of footsteps in hall and knew immediately who it belonged to.

"Sir." The masked man spoke up. "... Shiki is here to see you. "

Arbitro's attention shifted between the expectant Executioner before him and the other urgently pressing issue beside him.

He sighed, exasperated.

"Fine then. If you want to keep him, keep him alive. And well." Arbitro stated curtly, finally having given in.

A dark figure stood beside the guard.

Shiki.

He raised an eyebrow at Arbitro's words, vaguely intrigued, but didn't press his curiosity. His eyes moved over to the loud Executioner.

Gunji's glee was obvious, and he threw a fist into the air, having won the right to keep his new pet. "Haha! ...Yay."

He hadn't even taken note of the other man's presence until just then.

"Ah," Gunji turned his head to the dark figure with the Japanese sword and the suitcase under his arm. "Hey. Shikiti."

And with that short greeting, he turned to walk the opposite way, down the hall and back to his room.

Now, Shiki's curiosity really was raised. He watched the bloodied Executioner's back as he walked away. Somehow, it felt as if Gunji had dismissed him for something else of greater interest.

He didn't take long to dwell on this as Arbitro turned to deal with the business he brought with him.

-

Akira was sitting against the side of the bed, too exhausted to bother getting back up.

He had sat there, listening to the voices out in the hall.

It wasn't that the conversation was being held close by. It was just that Arbitro and Gunji's voices were both loud, and their argument echoed down the hall, making its way even through the locked door.

Two weeks.

That was how long he had been here.

He had lost a lot of blood from that encounter with Gunji. And the wounds that covered his body could attest to that. It made sense.

But he had no memory whatsoever of the time he had spent in this room.

Akira shifted and looked down at the bandages wrapped around his body.

They were clean. Had they been changed regularly while he was unconscious?

And an unfamiliar scent drifted from his own skin and hair. Not disinfectant. It was somewhat pleasant.

Even his clothes were clean. Well. They had been clean. Bloodstains from Gunji now marked the fabric.

Akira wondered who had taken the time to... Surely not...

The Executioner somehow seemed too rough and dense of a person to have been able to do something like this.

Akira let out a long exhale, closing his eyes and letting his the back of head fall back against the sheets at the edge of the bed. It ached, and his body still wasn't up to par.

That conversation sure was taking a long time...

He allowed himself to relax, letting his blurring thoughts wander.

He had lost track of the time that passed when, at the back of his mind, he registered the sound of the door opening.

This time, he would not make the same mistake. He kept his eyes closed and his breathing even and forced his body to stay relaxed. His other senses however stayed alert.

The door shut with a subtle click.

Was it really Gunji?

What he heard was vaguely recognizable, the sound of metal and something else heavy being dropped into the corner of the room.

Then, he could hear whoever it was approach him, steps padding softly on the floor.

Tags clinked quietly as the man slid strong arms beneath Akira's body. He could feel his body lift off the the floor with ease and then the soft firmness of the bed beneath him.

He felt a blanket being thrown over him.

With the sound of receding footsteps, Akira judged that it was safe for him to open his eyes halfway.

A blurred figure with a garish pink hoodie and tags attached to the belt of his jeans slowly opened the door and quietly shut it behind him.

-

-

-

In the environment Gunji had lived and thrived in, he was deprived.

He lacked something basically human.

And that was exactly what had made him and his partner so effective at their roles as the enforcers of Igura's rules.

Human lives were hardly anything valuable. He and Kiriwar tossed them aside everyday for their own entertainment.

But those two weeks he took to care for the Igura participant he had caught and kept had stirred up something else in him.

It was strange. Difficult. And frustrating.

Within the first two days of bandaging him, the slight man developed a fever. When the medic heard of it, he wasn't surprised. In fact, he had not expected the man to survive his initial injuries.

So the intrigued Gunji took over again, with hardly a protest from the medic.

Kiriwar walked alone on their irregular patrols a few times those two weeks.

And for the first time, Gunji found something difficult.

The former Igura participant's fever rose and fell constantly. The slashed wounds that covered his body opened easily if Gunji weren't careful in moving his body. The store of bandages, abundant, as it had never really been used, was constantly visited by Gunji. His condition had been unstable for that first week.

Yet still, Gunji decided to hold onto him.

At first it had been something to ease his boredom, but somehow... It gave him a strange sense of satisfaction to hear the unconscious man's breaths, still alive because of his less-than-adept attempts at caring for him.

To Gunji, it was something new.

He had long been bored of enforcing Igura's rules, only being satisfied with an occasional participant's tortured screams as he inflicted that pain, alongside his partner Kiriwar.

They were not particularly close, but they shared something in common. Something no one else understood. They both lacked something basically human. And so their relationship could not be described as companionship. It was more like they held a mutual understanding of each other.

That was the only reason why they could stay so close to each other for so long and work together so effectively.

When it came to this new guy, however, Gunji's interest was provoked.

He didn't take Line. Yet he stood firmly against the incredible presences of the Executioners that day. His eyes were clear. And driven.

Pochi - "Tama" if you talked to Kiriwar, or "Kau" if you talked to Arbitro - sniffed him out among the Igura participants and put him on spot for both his and Kiriwar's attention.

The usual reaction was frozen fear.

But this guy... He refused to be the one to break the stare when Kiriwar faced him. And when Gunji challenged him. Over and over again.

If he had been insane or high, it would have easy to dismiss him, but that wasn't the case.

He was interesting. And even Kiriwar noticed that. Both of them found it intriguing.

So they let him go.

The second time they met, however, while running after the tag thief, Gunji immediately recognized the silver-haired Igura participant, somehow dragged into the chase.

And that time, he didn't let him go.

Like he thought, it became something that eased his boredom.

As moved back and forth between the kitchen and the cabinets for hot water, cold water, bandages, rags, and food, Kiriwar just watched him, no doubt wondering what his partner was thinking.

But ever since he saw that expression, that defiant, unwavering look in the former Igura participant's eyes as he watched Gunji's every action warily, despite his vulnerable state, he knew he wanted to find out more about this new and interesting object in his life.

So he diligently tended to him for those two weeks.

Somewhere along the way, he found himself looking forward to returning from his patrols in order to urge cool water down his patient's throat.

Often, in a feverish state, he would push Gunji away, muttering:

"Don't touch me."

"Leave me alone."

"Let go of me."

It didn't bother Gunji at the beginning, but over time, he found himself a bit discouraged that the person he tended so diligently to constantly turned away from him. Not that he should be shocked as to why.

From the intensity of that fever, Gunji wouldn't be surprised if the guy wouldn't be able to recall anything once he recovered.

His temperature went up and down. At first, he constantly was too hot and threw off the blankets Gunji gave him. Then, he felt cold all the time.

Eventually, it came to a point that he no longer pushed Gunji away and reached for his body heat instead.

Gunji was only happy to oblige that request.

When the guy would finally come to his senses, however, Gunji didn't expect that he would want him to be so close anymore.

-

-

-

Akira woke up slowly, somehow comfortable. In a daze and content to stay where he was, he let himself sink into the warmth with a soft exhale.

However, that comfort didn't last long when sleep did not return to him.

He could feel his awareness return to him. There were blankets and pillows surrounding him. Luxuriously warm and soft.

And he could feel someone's arms around him.

His mind snapped to attention as he realized that they belonged to the Executioner, who was right beside him.

An involuntary panic rose in him, he recovering from his injuries, and his body hadn't forgotten who had inflicted them.

Gunji's arms were locked around him. And a leg thrown over the lower half of his body made it almost impossible for him to move.

When he turned his head to look to the side to look at the face of the Executioner, he was taken aback a bit.

Underneath messy blonde hair, Gunji's face was completely relaxed. No hint of the Executioner's impulsive unpredictability was present in his expression. His breathing was slow and quiet, completely at ease. He was definitely in a deep sleep.

The darkness of the room let Akira now that it was likely either the middle of the night or the very early morning.

When Akira squirmed in his grip, the Executioner only shifted and pulled him closer.

Akira struggled again, this time more determined to move away, even by a little.

At this, Gunji's eyes opened, still half-asleep.

"Don't move so much, Kitty..." He murmured and pressed his forehead against the side of Akira's head, his bangs brushing Akira's cheek. "You'll hurt yourself."

Akira squirmed harder against the Executioner's embrace and matched the low volume of Gunji's voice.

"Let go of me."

For a second. the corners of Gunji's mouth went up.

Then he rubbed his forehead against the side of Akira's head. "Let's stay asleep a little longer..."

His eyes closed again, and it was only a moment before his breathing evened out again.

Akira stopped squirming, tired from the effort of moving. Somehow, in this state, he felt somewhat secure in the knowledge that Gunji was unlikely to try to hurt him, at least for the moment.

So he took solace in that small comforting thought.

It was undeniably comfortable. And warm.

Following the advice of the now asleep Gunji beside him, he let himself fall into unconsciousness again.

-

-

-

"Gunji!"

Kiriwar threw the door open. His eyes found the figure of the other Executioner still on the bed.  
Still sleeping. The lazy bastard.

"Oy, Gunji. Wake up." He spoke again.

"Arbitro's looking for the both of us."

He strode over to the side of the bed, then raised an eyebrow to the scene before him.

"Shut up, Jiijii." Gunji threw an irritated look at him, fully awake.

The other guy was still asleep.

Kiriwar let out an amused laugh, "Wow... Since when did this happen?"

"I said. Shut up, Jiijii."

Gunji carefully pulled himself away from the sleeping figure beside him.

After standing up, he stretched, "I'm up."

"I'll be ready in a sec. Just..." Gunji interrupted himself with a yawn.

Then he grabbed a hoodie and the blades on the table beside it.

Kiriwar turned and began walking out of the room, Gunji following closely behind him.

-

As they walked, Gunji slipped on his hoodie and began strapping the claws onto his knuckles.

He yawned again as he settled into his normal routine, "Wonder what he wants us to do today... D'ya think we got a challenger?"

"For Il Re?" Kiriwar answered, "Nah, probably not."

He looked sideways at his partner. "Wonder what you were doing though..."

"Huh...?" Gunji didn't look up from his work on getting the other set of blades on his other hand.

Kiriwar kept walking. "I can understand why ya wanna keep him around. He's got a pretty sweet face. And a nice body."

Kiriwar continued, "Too bad there aren't any women around here."

They reached the large wooden door to Arbitro's office for Igura. The two suited and masked guards on either side of the door straightened immediately at the sight of the Executioners.

"But..." Kiriwar tapped the heavy metal pipe on his shoulder once. "I'd settle for him though."

Just as the guards were about to push the doors open, Gunji's voice froze them.

"Oy."

The tone of his voice different. Dangerous. Even more so than usual.

"Kitty's mine. Hands off."

After a brief moment of tense silence, Kiriwar turned his torso to face the other Executioner.

"Huh...?"

A crooked, challenging grin crept onto his face.

"... What if I don't want to?"

Both the Executioners faced each other directly, from either side of the hall. The tension built, slowly becoming insurmountable.

Gunji face held no trace of its usual high-spirited madness.

Slowly, he raised his outstretched fist, blades attached, pointedly at the other Executioner.

"Then we're gonna have a real problem here, Jiijii."

His eyes locked onto Kiriwar's.

The air in the area surrounding them became unbelievably heavy.

Then, one of the guards spoke up, nervously.

"Arbitro-sama is waiting inside."

Nodding to the other guard, he and the other man pushed the doors wide open.

"After you." Kiriwar tilted his head in Gunji's direction, still wearing that crooked, challenging smile.

When Gunji finally moved, Kiriwar walked beside him as they stepped into Arbitro's office, just as they do every morning.


	4. Chapter 4

When Gunji returned to the room, Akira was awake.

He turned to look at the Executioner immediately, wary.

Gunji just strided over to the side of the bed.

With the grin always present on the Executioner's face, he greeted Akira, "Late afternoon, Kitty~"

"Ya hungry?"

Akira's stomach reacted involuntarily, turning at the mention of food.

In one quick motion, Gunji had Akira in his arms and off the bed.

The faint scent of iron sent Akira into a panic.

"Oy, don't move so much." He had to fight a bit to hold onto the squirming Akira. "'The heck am I gonna get ya to the table if ya squirm so much?"

"Let go of me!" Akira almost fell out of the Executioner's grip.

"Whoa-" Gunji almost had to drop to a knee in order to keep his balance.

"I can walk on my own, so let go!"

With those words, Akira expected to be dropped onto the ground.

Instead, he found himself being lowered steadily to an upright position.

"I got it. I got it," Gunji slowly loosened his hold on Akira's torso. "So don't move around too much."

It took all of Akira's effort not to collapse immediately when Gunji released his hold completely. The Executioner's arms still hovered around Akira's shoulders.

Akira clenched his jaw in an effort to make use of the recovering limbs he had not used in two weeks.

"I can walk on my own." He asserted again, both to the blonde Executioner next to him and himself.

The grin on Gunji's face had faded, and he watched Akira for a moment before stepping back and indicating that Akira follow him out the door.

As they walked down the hall, Akira followed Gunji unsteadily, trailing one hand close to the wall, just in case. He was afraid he would not have been able to keep up with the Executioner's usually long striding pace, but Gunji had slowed down to stay just ahead of Akira.

Occasionally, Akira saw Gunji's head turn slightly to the side, over his shoulder, as if watching out for him.

Akira exhaled under his breath. What was there to watch for? There was no possible way for him to run away in this state. Besides...

Akira looked at the area around him. Each long hallway seemed to meet another, all of them filled with doors to countless rooms. What were all of them used for anyway?

Either way, the mansion was like a maze. Getting out, in his current state, would be impossible.

He would be caught by a guard easily, or even worse, by one of the Executioners, if he didn't collapse or get lost first.

So the only thing Akira could do was follow closely behind Gunji's back.

The hand he trailed along the wall tensed when it lost touch of something solid to hold onto, and he bit onto his lip involuntarily in effort and in order to keep himself standing upright.

They entered an large open room with a long, wooden table in center, surrounded by Arbitro's choice furniture.

At one end of the table, there was already a set-up of a meal.

From this distance, Akira couldn't see what it was.

"Over here, Kitty~" Gunji called out to him, patting the pulled-out chair obviously meant for Akira.

A widening smile spread onto his face as Akira took the seat.

"You're up and all, and I figured ya didn't wanna stay in the room forever, so~"

Gunji pulled out the seat beside Akira and sat down on it with a thump.

"We're eatin' here!"

Akira looked down at the plate.

Omurice. Even though from the dimming skies outside, it was likely close to evening.

"Go on. Try it~" Gunji urged him on, pushing the plate slightly closer to Akira.

Akira glanced up at the grinning Executioner before him, then back down at the meal set out for him.

"Who knows what could have been put in it?" Akira warily looked over at Gunji.

Gunji tilted his head, "Eh... But you like this, don't ya?"

He was referring to the dish. Omurice.

Akira wouldn't call it his favorite meal. However, he did prefer to eat omurice-flavored solids over others, if they were available. He had never tasted the real deal though.

Moreover, how would this guy know anything about that fact?

Gunji seemed to read Akira's thoughts through the questioning look thrown at him.

"Just somethin' I noticed~"

Noticed?

Since when?

After a brief moment of hesitation, Akira picked up the spoon set next to the dish.

He took a small bite.

Delicious.

Although Akira tried to keep his expression as plain as possible, his eyes widened a bit.

"Ha~" Gunji seemed to be thrilled. "I knew you'd like it."

"So..." Gunji leaned in, "How is it? Ya never tasted anything like it before, right~?"

Akira didn't respond. He turned his head aside and just closed his mouth over another spoonful.

"Haha~" Gunji appeared to be very satisfied with himself as he watched Akira finish the meal.

By this point, Akira had pretty much given up on his suspicions about the food. He couldn't care any less. He was just so damn hungry.

He didn't even hesitate when he noticed Gunji's eyes narrow minutely as he reached for the glass of water on the table.

He tilted his head back and gulped down the cool water.

Then, right after he set the glass back on the table, Gunji reached out and closed his hand around Akira's wrist.

"Does it hurt?"

Akira's reflexive reaction was to pull his hand away, but Gunji's expression stopped him.

Somehow, it felt as if he were asking a legitimate question.

Akira opened his mouth slowly.

"No. Not really."

"Huh."

Gunji's grin returned again. "Good then~"

He stood up abruptly, knocking his chair back, and stepped towards Akira, sweeping him up into his arms again.

"Wha-" Akira was startled by Gunji's sudden movements.

"Come on. Just let me do this~" Gunji urged Akira.

"It'll be faster this way."

Gunji took his usual loping pace as he strided out of the room and down the hall.

Back to his room.

Akira landed in soft fwump on the bed, lightly tossed by Gunji.

"I think we can take these off now~"

Gunji followed closely after Akira, and his hands slid underneath the long-sleeved shirt Akira was wearing, pushing up the fabric.

Akira immediately grabbed at Gunji's arms, but the Executioner ignored the resistance.

In one smooth movement, the shirt slipped off, over Akira's head, rustling up his hair.

Akira practically kicked himself backwards but stopped when his back hit a pile of pillows and blankets, stacked high against the backboard of the bed.

"Come on. Just relax." With an entertained smile, Gunji licked his upper lip. "I'm not gonna hurt ya~"

He was obviously getting a kick out of his reaction.

Akira glared with all the animosity he could gather behind his eyes, "Don't touch me."

"Hm..."

Gunji moved closer and caught both of Akira's forearms. Firmly. But... gently.

"I already said... I'm not gonna hurt ya."

Akira sat there, watching Gunji release one of his arms and move it to the bandages at his shoulder.

With a short tug, it began to unravel.

"There. Just... stay still for a sec..." Gunji focused on removing the bandages that covered Akira's body.

As he pulled each strip of gauze aside, White slashed marks on Akira's body were revealed. Newly healing skin.

Puzzled by the Executioner's quiet concentration, Akira didn't move, only listening to the quiet breaths that filled the air between them and watching Gunji work at unraveling the bandages from his body.

Finally. The last bandage.

Gunji reached over Akira's shoulder and felt for the strip secured to his back.

...! When Akira flinched minutely, Gunji stopped.

No. It didn't hurt.

The Executioner's eyes flicked over to Akira's, watching his reaction, as he moved to touch the bandage again.

Akira found himself assuring the Executioner, "It's fine."

And with that, Gunji peeled off the bandage.

He dropped it into the accumulated pile of white strips beside him, then bunched them all together in a ball and threw them into a bin at the opposite side of the room. It went in smoothly, accurately.

The blonde Executioner leaned back a little, having finished the task.

The strange mood brought on by the quiet, methodical way Gunji had treated his injuries faded when he finally spoke up again.

"I don't think we'll be needin' those anymore."

The smile on Gunji's face was somehow different from the delighted sadism present so often on his face. It expressed... relief?

"This is great~"

"You're up now." He traced the white scarring lines across Akira's shoulder. "And these look better, too..."

His eyes flicked over to the table beside the bed, to a large, sharp-smelling bottle of disinfectant, and he wrinkled his nose, "Don't think we'll be needin' any more of that stuff either."

"But..." Gunji looked back to Akira's body with a mischievous look, "We should still get ya cleaned up, Kitty~"

At those words, Akira felt a surge of irritation.

"Don't call me that."

He felt as if he were repeating himself.

He had already said this once to Gunji. That was two weeks ago. After he woke up to the Executioner bandaging his body.

"What was that, Kitty~" Gunji ran his tongue across his teeth, entertained.

Before Akira realized it, he spat out a response to the Executioner...

"Akira."

"Hm." Gunji tilted his head at the correction, taking it as a challenge.

He leaned forward, pulling on the pillows and blankets supporting Akira, and threw them aside, off the bed. Out of the way.

Akira landed on his back without the cushions keeping him upright.

Unsettled by this new position, he tried to sit himself back up but he moved too slowly, still vaguely pained.

Gunji pushed him back down firmly.

"Don't like being on your back?"

A smile spread across his face as he slid his hands lower, down the sides of Akira's body.

"Ya better get used to it."

Suggestively, Gunji pulled Akira's hips closer.

In desperation, Akira threw out an elbow, trying to ram it into Gunji's chest.

When Gunji dodged it easily, Akira shoved his shoulders away, pulled himself upright, and kicked himself back, until he hit the backboard of the bed.

He was out of breath now, from both the panic of resisting and the effort of his movements.

For a moment, they both sat there, watching the other.

Then Gunji spoke up.

"We gotta cleaned up, ya know..."

He also referred to himself, to the bloodstains present on his clothes from the day's patrols. That was the source of the faint smell of iron in the air.

"It'll be dinner soon... And Arbitro likes to have everyone there."

Didn't Akira eat just now, though? He had no more appetite. Why would Gunji have him eat so close to dinner?

Akira found himself pulled back to reality by Gunji's voice.

"That means Kitty's gotta be washed up~"

The steam in the large bathroom was quick to form soon after Gunji turned on the faucet to fill the tub.

Akira sat off to the side, on a stool, refusing to remove the clothes on the lower half of his body.

After Gunji removed his jacket, Akira focused his eyes on the corner of the room, determined to ignore the Executioner.

Suddenly, water fell from above, forcing a gasp of shock out of Akira.

Wha-?

In reflex, Akira looked up to see Gunji holding an upturned bucket standing above him.

"Hey there, Kitty~"

Akira shivered at the absence of warmth. It left his body as the cold water ran down his body.

Gunji kneeled down behind Akira, the tags on his belt clinking. "Now ya really have to take these off."

His hands moved to the fastening at the front of Akira's waist. Akira was quick to grab Gunji's hands.

"I can do that myself."

If he had to take off his clothes, he would rather be the one to do it.

"Hm..." Gunji's hands lingered for a moment, as if he were deciding something, then he leaned back on his heels, giving Akira enough room to take off the pants.

"Don't..."

_...be so close._

His sentence remained unfinished.

Akira felt vaguely embarassed to be doing this in front of the Executioner. It seemed Gunji had gotten the gist of what he had tried to say, and once again, he lingered in place for a moment, before standing up and walking to the other side of the bathroom. He moved to put the bucket away, his back turned to Akira.

"Ya know, Kitty, you ain't got nothin' I haven't seen before."

Akira clenched his jaw when he was addressed. Gunji's voice was teasing in the uncomfortable heat of the room, irritatingly so.

He knew that fact well enough himself. His clothes and bandages had been mysteriously changed from time to time, and by now, he figured that Gunji must have been the one to do those things.

After taking off his clothes, while Gunji's back was still turned, Akira slid into the large tub now filled with hot water. He didn't want to be out in the open in the bathroom like this, with a guy like that.

The heat of the water relaxed him somewhat and let himself sink into it until only his neck and up were above the water. He closed his eyes and tried to forget about the situation he was in. He hoped the Executioner would be done with whatever he was doing and leave soon.

His eyes remained closed until he heard a vague shuffling sound. He looked up.

Gunji had reached over his back and was pulling off his own shirt.

No. Way.

Akira sank himself deeper into the water. He closed his eyes again and knitted his eyebrows. No way. He wasn't going to get in here too, was he?

Akira listened closely, hoping to hear the sound of the shower, instead. Hoping that Gunji would be doing something else other than what he was thinking he was about to do.

His shoulders tensed, and his eyes flew open when he heard the Executioner's voice right next to him.

"Hey, Kitty. Move over a bit."

Akira absolutely did not want to move. There was no way he'd be able to face the Executioner sitting in the water across from him. He cursed the fact that the tub's size was enough to hold the both of them.

He didn't want to move. But still. It felt as if he couldn't refuse.

After debating with himself for a seemingly long moment, Akira pulled in his legs, making sufficient room on the other side of the tub.

Akira was confused when the Executioner didn't make a move to get in the tub.

"Hm~" Gunji let out a subdued laugh under his breath.

His hands moved to Akira's back and firmly pushed. Akira slid forward easily in the water.

No way.

He was going in this way?

Before he knew it, Gunji was sitting behind him.

Like this, at least he wouldn't have to face the Executioner, but in most ways, this was worse.

Although the tub was large, the two of them in it left little room for movement without bumping into each other.

The Executioner, although lean, was tall and took up most of the room.

Akira's slighter frame was nested inside Gunji's embrace, arms locked around his waist. He had no choice in the matter. From the way Gunji held onto him, their bodies were in very close proximity. With the Executioner so close, Akira could hardly relax in the hot water anymore.

"So tense..." Gunji observed.

Akira didn't respond. He just wanted the bath to be over. The sooner he could move away, the better.

But Gunji had no intention of letting that happen any time soon.

"Ya know..."

He leaned in closer.

"Right now, I really wanna do ya."

His face was right next to Akira's, his nose brushing against his jaw. He pressed his cheek to Akira's, nuzzling his face.

Akira fidgeted in his arms.

"I said I wouldn't hurt ya anymore, so don't worry..."

His hands began to move down, reaching Akira's hips.

Reflexively, Akira flinched away.

"Ya know, if ya don't relax, this'll hurt."

Gunji's hands slid even lower.

This time, Akira caught his wrists, stopping Gunji's advances.

"Hm...?"

Gunji pulled Akira closer, and the short distance between them closed, Akira's back making contact with Gunji's chest. "Don't wanna?"

Obviously.

Akira pulled in a shocked intake of breath when in one quick motion, Gunji turned him around and pushed him against the edge of the tub. Water splashed out from the abruptness of the movement.

"Well, that's too bad... 'cause I do."

From this position, Akira could see Gunji's face clearly.

Any semblence of restraint was absent - not that there was any to begin with.

His eyes were locked with Akira's, sending a clear message. His mouth was parted, tilted upwards. His face was faintly flushed, probably from the unbelievable heat from the water and room and their bodies.

Akira's hips were pinned down firmly by Gunji's hands, anchored in place so that he couldn't move away.

There wasn't enough room. The tub wasn't wide enough to give Akira's legs adequate space, forcing him to bend his knees.

And Gunji was quick to move into the space between them.

"Hey, Kitty~" Gunji nipped at the tip of Akira's nose.

"It's pretty hot in here..."

Akira shut his eyes and turned his head away.

He accepted it.

He already knew what this had been leading up to.

Gunji hadn't done anything with him since that hateful encounter in the alley. And he had bought himself enough time.

There... really was no getting out of this.

His arms, which were framed against Gunji's shoulders, the only barrier keeping the distance between himself and the Executioner, relaxed.

He swallowed a frustrated sob.

It was going to be rough. And painful.

"Hey, Kitty."

Curiously, Gunji hadn't made a move yet.

Akira, wondering why, opened his eyes and glanced up at the Executioner.

Gunji's expression was unreadable, his mouth no longer tilted upwards in a grin.

"What... What's with that expression?"

Gunji's voice was unsure, very uncharacteristic of him.

A bitter feeling welled up in Akira's chest.

"Oh, I forgot."

Akira finally spoke up for the first time since they went into the bathroom.

"You like it when they scream and cry, right? Whern they try to run away."

Akira found himself recalling memories from their first encounter.

He clenched his jaw, and his voice almost broke, "Well, there's nowhere for me to run now. And you'd just do what want."

Akira stopped talking and averted his eyes.

Although Gunji was not cutting him physically, his mental state could only take so much strain.  
Akira felt defeated. Vulnerable.

There was a near zero chance of escaping the mansion.

And he hated it.

But what could he do?

Nothing.

All he could do now was shut his eyes and wait for it to be over.

So he did.

For a moment. a silence stretched between them.

Then, Gunji abruptly let go.

Akira looked back at the Executioner, whose expression was still unreadable. This was unusual for him.

Gunji moved to the other end of the tub and picked up two towels off the side.

"It's about time for dinner, anyway."

From this angle, Akira couldn't see Gunji's face.

The blonde Executioner threw a towel at Akira, taking him by surprise.

It covered his head and shoulders, blocking his view. Before Akira could raise his hands to take it for himself, Gunji roughly ruffled his hair for him with the towel.

An errant thought entered Akira's head of its own accord.

This must be why Gunji's hair seemed so damaged.

Akira heard the sounds of the tub draining.

Strangely, Gunji said nothing else as he took the towel and wrapped Akira's body with it.

Hardly dry himself after throwing his own towel aside, Gunji pulled on jeans and a hooded jacket. Then, he handed a silently observing Akira a set of clean clothes. Another hoodie. And shorts.

Finally, Gunji spoke, facing away from Akira.

"Hurry up, K-"

Gunji cut himself off abruptly. Then finished his sentence.

"'Bitro won't like it if we're late."

After Akira finished pulling on the oversized hoodie, Gunji glanced back at him.  
"Just... don't eat anything."

Akira looked up.

Don't eat anything?

It wasn't as if he were still hungry. Quite the opposite actually. But why not?

Suspicion crept back into Akira's head.

With those words, Gunji slid open the bathroom door.


	5. Chapter 5

Akira found himself following Gunji's back again.

The slowed pace and constant subtle over-the-shoulder glances were the same as earlier.

Honestly, Akira was very confused by the Executioner's behavior.

At first, he was afraid of Gunji's unpredictability, and Gunji really did do things he didn't expect. But.

Those actions were mismatched with the Executioner's image. Very much in contrast.

To the point where just being in the same room with Gunji was exhausting.

Everything he seemed to do was so far-flung from what Akira expected

He expected much more pain, violence, oppression - things like those - in the company of someone like Gunji.

But he felt none of those.

Had something significant happened in the two weeks he had no memory of?

Or was he just overthinking it?

This just might be a real serious case of Stockholm Syndrome...

As Akira's head began to ache, his expression tensed a bit, and he raised a hand to hold onto his forehead.

Then, he ran into the Executioner.

Surprised, he looked up, but they were too close for him to properly see Gunji's face.

Rough hands closed over the hand Akira held to his head.

"Ya know... If ya can't walk, then say so."

His voice should have sounded harsh, but somehow, it didn't come across that way.

Akira let out a curt exhale and smoothed out his expression.

"I can walk on my own."

He tugged his hand out of Gunji's grip.

After a short pause, as if he wanted to say something, Gunji closed his mouth and turned again to continue walking.

-

Everyone in the dining room turned their attention to the entrance made by Gunji and Akira.

By everyone, that was Arbitro and Kiriwar. Arbitro sat at the head of the table, and Kiriwar was in the chair adjacent, tipping it back almost precariously, with his feet up on the edge of table.

From the scene, it looked as if Arbitro had been in the middle of telling Kiriwar off for kicking his feet up. But the two immediately settled down when the newcomers to dinner arrived. Kiriwar raised an eyebrow at Akira's entrance. Arbitro just smiled, pleasantly, artificially. Akira tried his best to relax when he found himself seated in the chair across from Kiriwar. Arbitro sat to his left.

When Gunji continued walking, making his way to the kitchen, Akira almost found himself hoping that the Executioner would come back soon. At the very least, his presence was more familiar than these two.

Akira sat alone with two of the most feared and influential figures in Toshima.

Three.

Gunji walked back in almost as soon as he'd left for the kitchen. In his hand was a sandwich.

"Oy, Gunji, did you bring me back one?" Kiriwar called out to his partner.

"Make your own, Jiijii." Gunji shot back.

Then, he plopped himself down next to Akira and leaned back in the chair.

This was some dinner, and Akira felt as if he were the one disrupting the normality of it. Arbitro and Kiriwar did nothing to hide their observing stares.

As Kiriwar bit into an apple, Arbitro smiled artificially at him and beckoned at the impressive display of food before him.

"Feel free to partake of anything you like."

Akira's eyes moved to the table. Although he was already full, curiosity drove him to consider try one of the dishes on the table. Steam rose from an appetizing plate of meat. Beside it, there were servings of pastas, an arrangement of fruit, and a bread bowl.

When Akira's gaze stopped on the bread bowl, he noticed something in the corner of his eye, Gunji's eyes were fixed on him.

With that, Akira remembered the blonde Executioner's words.

_Just... don't eat anything._

"No thanks."

_Who knows what you could have put in there?_

It was unspoken, but Akira almost repeated what he had said about his earlier meal.

When Akira's eyes flickered over to the Executioner, Gunji had looked away, having found something interesting about the ceiling.

"Are you sure?" Arbitro tilted his head. "I'm sure you've never tasted any one of these before. Help yourself."

"No thanks." Akira refused again. "I already ate."

When Arbitro raised his eyebrows questioningly, Gunji's voice entered the conversation.

"Yeah. He already ate."

This attracted the attention of even the distracted Kiriwar.

There was something strange in the air.

What was with this whole food thing?

"Ya could probably make me a whole fucking dress with all that lace." Gunji leaned back in chair, contrastingly casual in comparison with his voice, "Pochi was practically squirmin' from all the drugs in there."

"Kau?" Arbitro stood up, infuriated, "Gunji, what did you-?"

Arbitro was at a loss for words. He just stood there, stewing in irritation.

And Kiriwar, silent the entire time, looked amused by the whole scenario.

Arbitro just held a hand to his temples and sighed.

"Kiriwar." He called out to the other Executioner. "Could you bring him into the kitchen for a moment?"

He was referring to Akira.

"Yeah, sure." Kiriwar responded, tossing his apple aside and picking up Mitsuko, the heavy metal pipe leaning against the edge of the table. The legs of his tilted chair dropped down, properly landing back on the floor.

As he walked over to the kitchen door, even without directly addressing him, it was obvious that he beckoned Akira over.

Without much of a choice, Akira stood up and followed.

This time, it was Gunji's turn to look irritated.

"Eh? No way!"

Arbitro interrupted the blonde Executioner.

"Why do you insist on keeping-?!"

"I caught him." Gunji refuted immediately. "He's mine."

Before the scene could disappear behind the kitchen door, the sight of Gunji's protesting figure vaguely reminded Akira of a immaturely arguing child.

The door swung shut.

Now, Akira was alone with the other Executioner, who, just like at the table, made no effort to hide his stare. This was incredibly intimidating to Akira, but he was careful to make no indication of that fact on his face.

As they stood there, silent, Akira had to place a hand on the wall as an anchor to keep himself steady. Out of all people, he did not want to show any vulnerability to this person in particular.

Kiriwar's eyes moved from Akira's face to the white, scarring lines visible on his collar then to his slightly oversized clothes.

As time passed, the silence became increasingly uncomfortable.

He leaned back against the kitchen counter with a cocky smile and let go of the metal weapon, leaving it leaning against the wall beside him. Finally, the dark-haired Executioner's voice sounded in the unsettling space.

"So interesting... I can see why Gunji likes ya so much."

His gaze moved from Akira's body back up to his face. "It's probably those eyes... Damn. You got one sweet face..."

Although Akira knew that he was being complimented, he didn't want to hear it from this guy. There was something dangerous in those appraising eyes.

"And your body's pretty nice, too."

He tilted his head at Akira, "Dunno why, but Gunji's not too keen on sharin' ya. He's been gettin' pretty weird lately."

Akira shifted closer to the wall, uncomfortable.

Although Gunji and Arbitro were still in the other room, there were only a few meters of space between him and the other Executioner.

Kiriwar continued to talk, "Gunji ain't got much experience with other people - other than killin' them - so you're probably the only thing he focuses on now."

If Kiriwar were waiting for an answer, Akira wasn't giving him one.

"Hey, why don't ya stay with me instead?" Kiriwar had pulled himself away from the counter and began to step towards the unwavering man leaning against the wall.

Kiriwar now leaned over the Akira. He placed an arm on the side of the wall closest to the only exit to the kitchen. The other hand was lazily tucked into the front pocket of his jeans.

"Ya know... I'm a lot more fun than Gunji."

Akira's breathing had stopped in anticipation. He was trapped against the wall, with little space to move, even though Kiriwar hadn't touched him yet.

"What do ya say... Kitty?" He mocked Gunji's words.

In that moment, the door opened, and Kiriwar's attention shifted. From this position, Akira couldn't see who it was, but he had an idea from the voice that came from the same direction. A strange sense of relief rose in his chest.

"Jiijii."

"What?" Kiriwar made no move to back off, a challenging smile spreading on his face.

After a tension-filled moment. Kiriwar stepped back and picked up his metal weapon, all the while not taking his eyes off the blonde Executioner.

"Haha... Have fun." He laughed under his breath as he strided out the door.

Gunji's eyes lingered on the swinging door for a moment before moving towards Akira, still against the wall.

In one quick movement, he grabbed Akira's forearm and pulled him along as he took a faster pace back down the hall. Akira could barely keep up.

-

When the door slammed behind them, Gunji threw Akira into the bed. This was nothing like what he'd done before.

This was more of what Akira had expected would happen to him when he found himself trapped in the mansion.

His legs hung over the end of the bed, and in an attempt to get back up, he propped himself up on his elbows, only to be pushed down again by Gunji.

"What did he do?"

Gunji stood in front of the bed, leaning over him and pressing his hands on Akira's forearms, locking him in place.

When Akira didn't answer, he asked another question, his grip tightening, "Where'd he touch ya?"

Akira sucked in a sharp intake of breath as the grip on his arms became painful.

Gunji's grip faltered when he noticed it.

"Nowhere." Akira answered back. "He didn't touch me."

That part was true.

Akira's gaze flickered to side as he finished with a lie, "Nothing. He did nothing."

His eyes widened when Gunji grabbed the bunched up cloth at his abdomen and pushed it up.

"What about here then?"

Gunji's expression was unreadable.

Akira repeated himself, more urgently now, "He didn't go there. He didn't do anything."

When Akira sat himself up, he found himself shoved backwards, now thrown back onto the center of the bed.

"You're mine, Kitty."

Gunji had moved even closer to him, his hands and knees on the bed, too.

Akira figured that there was nothing he could do to make the situation worse, so he brought his arms up defensively against Gunji and hissed, "I'm not yours. And I said... Don't call me that."

With those words, he shoved Gunji's chest, "Don't. Touch. Me."

A stinging feeling in the back of his throat formed as he recalled an unpleasant memory.  
"Just because you caught me back then and..."

He shut his eyes for a moment and drew in a hard, shuddering breath, then resolved himself, looking back at the Executioner's face, "... doesn't make me your 'cat!'"

Akira threw all his hate of the memory of that painful forced act behind the glare and struggled to bring his sped-up breathing under control. He clenched his jaw as involuntary tears had begun to form in his eyes. He shut them tightly, stubbornly willing them to go away.

Not now. Now wasn't the time. He hadn't meant to get this worked up.

He had just gotten too wound up from everything that had been happening to him recently.

Akira's expression twisted, He turned his head aside, trying to press it into the bed, but there was no hiding from the Executioner at this distance.

Akira just clenched his jaw harder, finding himself unable to stop shaking.

And in the midst of all this, the Executioner had quieted and stilled.

This was what he loved the most, right?

Prey that ran away. Cried. Screamed. And here he was, giving Gunji just that.

His mask of strength fell away. It had been crumbling for a while now. Ever since he had come to Toshima. Little events had chipped at that apathetic pretense and now that it had finally fallen apart, he couldn't stop himself from shaking.

He must seem so weak and pathetic to this Executioner, who likely never experienced any kind of pain, so strong and brutal and detached from the world and people around him.

What was going to happen now? What was Gunji going to do? Those questions had dominated his mind for the past few days.

The uncertainty frightened him. He could no longer deny it to himself now.

The strength he exercised in the CFC, his status as a Blaster champion, they did nothing for him here.

So... what now?

Akira flinched back when he felt the Executioner's touch. Gunji pulled back for a second, as if he were hesitating, then suddenly grabbed Akira, pulling him close.

Akira's head moved into the space between Gunji's neck and shoulder, and his arms were trapped between them, still up, but were now folded firnly against the Executioner's chest.

One of Gunji's arms reached around Akira's back, a hand pressed into the space between his shoulder blades. The other rested higher, at the nape of his neck, his hand in Akira's hair.

Akira shrank back. At the moment, the last thing he wanted was to be close to the Executioner.

At first, Gunji relented a bit, but then, he pulled Akira in even tighter.

-

They stayed like that for a while.

Gunji thought it would take longer for the guy to calm down, but it seemed that exhaustion had taken over. And now he slept, still held so close to his body.

_Akira._

That was his name.

Akira's body fit in so comfortably beside his own, so even after he fell asleep, Gunji kept him there.

He had moved his hand between Akira's shoulder blades in what he thought was a comforting manner, and he rustled his hair lightly. So soft compared to his own.

Gunji found himself slowly relaxing too as he breathed in the pleasant smell coming off the Akira's hair.

He looked down at the his face. His pale skin seemed to be illuminated even in the dimness of the room. His eyes were closed, and his dark eyelashes contrasted against the strained skin underneath. A long nose followed down to lips slightly parted in sleep. His cheeks were slightly obscured by messy hair.

This guy was really beautiful.

Gunji could appreciate that. And that was why those sharp expressions made such an impact on him.

The arm he had slid under the hoodie to reach inbetween his shoulders touched warm, smooth skin, vaguely marked by the ridges of light scars.

Scars the Executioner himself had given him.

And they were why Akira had been trembling just moments before.

That expression. That expression on his face wrenched something in his chest.

He didn't like it.

Gunji pulled the guy in closer.

He never wanted to see that expression again.

The guy definitely had not forgotten that encounter on the side of the street. And Gunji remembered his own forcefulness in getting what he wanted.

At the time, even though he knew that it must have been incredibly painful for the other guy, he hadn't stopped. He hadn't cared. In fact, he took pleasure in the way Akira arched his back in agony, and he found it amusing to feel his weakening pushes of resistance.

But now… something weighed down heavily on his mind.

He looked down at the person in his arms. The guy was now breathing slowly and steadily, in a much calmer state than earlier.

And an unfamiliar restricting feeling closed around Gunji's chest when he looked at him.

The Executioner closed his eyes and pressed his mouth against the messed up bangs on the Akira's forehead.

_…_

_I…_

_… I'm sorry._


End file.
